


Paper Planes

by ThreadSketchier



Category: Star Wars Legends - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Luke Skywalker is done with your shit, also Luke needs all the hugs, angst angst angst, crowning moment of awesome, don't screw with a Skywalker, especially when you hurt his space children, except whoops there's still a lot of angst, in other news, oh look i has a sad now, the EU needs a re-write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 20:50:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12240393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThreadSketchier/pseuds/ThreadSketchier
Summary: Dark Side shenanigans and indestructible superweapons, meet Luke Skywalker.





	Paper Planes

**Author's Note:**

> I made the mistake of actually reading the Forceforsaken scene from the end of JAT: _Dark Apprentice_ as research for a totally different idea and this happened. You're welcome?

It’s been a long time since this dream has come to him.

At the end of the stars there is only eternal darkness, and the Dark exults in its triumph, refusing to acknowledge the irony that there is no one and nothing left to gloat to.  Besides him, anyway.  He is encased in stone, but his tomb is also surrounded by murk and vines, so apparently there  _ is _ something more than nothing left.  He breathes the Dark and it fills his veins, but he is indifferent to its icy caress and razor edges.  He’s been here before and there’s no further to go, no greater horror than the inevitable end that makes life no less valuable.

He emerges from obsidian and earth, the steaming, jagged edges of his father’s broken mask grazing his cheeks.  The mud is heavy and clings to his body, but it will dry and crack, and he will dust it off and get to his feet again and climb back to the surface.  He sighs, weary but unafraid.

Until he sees them hanging from the walls.

Bodies tangled in vines, roots wound into their mouths and ears and noses and eyes.  Immobilized and helpless, black vipers slowly descending from above to slither across their faces and throats, slime-coated fangs glistening in the gloom.

The bodies of his students.

His cry reverberates back from the stone walls of his room when he jolts awake.

They’re all still there when he reaches out in instinctive concern to check on their presences.  All asleep - so soundly asleep, in fact, that not even a spark of mental activity flickers among them, as if no one else is dreaming.  It’s a relief in one way and unnatural in another.  The air seems thick and coldly oppressive, and Luke feels that he can’t draw enough breath to slow his pounding heart.

He’s felt this black veil before, on Dagobah and Jomark and Byss.

So he stops trying, lies still on his pallet while his heart reluctantly lurches to a calmer pace, holds his limbs rigid against the urge to shiver.  When the slightest ache begins to prod his lungs he sips a deep breath and centers himself.

There’s a void waiting for him atop the temple, fiercely hungry.

Sighing, Luke rises, dresses, hangs his lightsaber from his belt.   _ All right then _ .

The soft orange glow of early planetrise greets him, along with Kyp Durron in a black cape and the Sun Crusher suspended overhead, its pale hull pinging and crackling as it cools in the morning air.

Luke allows himself a moment of horrified dismay, eyes darting between the boy and the superweapon.  As much potential as he has, Kyp obviously hasn’t done such a feat alone.

“So it’s come to this, then,” Luke says softly.

Kyp sneers imperiously.  “I’ll do what needs to be done to eradicate the Empire once and for all.  You can stay here and practice your pathetic little Jedi tricks while I make the galaxy safe for everyone else.”

Luke raises an eyebrow.  “But it won’t be safe from you.”

Kyp’s frown deepens in offense.  “I’m not out to blow up every star system, I’m only wiping out the Empire.  So this war will be over and no one else will have to suffer and die because of them.  I’m not stupid,” he spits.

“No, you’re not, Kyp.  You’re hurting.  I know this.”  Slowly Luke approaches him, his hands empty and spread open in non-threatening appeal.  “I’m far from the first person, but the Empire has taken much from me also.  And frankly, it’s given me a great burden in having to reestablish the Jedi Order with very little resources.  It took my sister’s homeworld.  It took my brother-in-law’s and my friends’ livelihoods and dignity and freedom.  It took my father and mother and aunt and uncle.  And I have fought them with every ounce of my body and soul.”  He holds up his palms, tracing their lines with his sight before returning his gaze to Kyp.  “I have killed millions in this war.  I even embraced the Dark Side and served the reborn Emperor.  I thought by learning its secrets I could find a way to defeat it from within.  I didn’t care what happened to me, as long as what I did might save more lives in the end.

“I failed, Kyp.  All the darkness did was break me, and I caused even more destruction in the process.  If it wasn’t for my sister pulling me back, we would have all been destroyed, and the galaxy lost.  There’s no strength in the Dark Side, Kyp.  The greater strength is in resisting it, and not returning evil for evil.”

He can see his words sinking into the boy, the self-righteous façade cracking, but Kyp shouts, “That’s a lie!  I’m strong enough to pull this ship out of a planet’s core!  Why shouldn’t I use this to help others now?  If you were too weak to handle it, that’s not  _ my _ problem!”

Luke stares at the Sun Crusher, at its angular hull scoured clean by the tremendous pressures at Yavin’s core.  Quantum-crystalline armor.  Han had rammed this thing straight through a Star Destroyer’s bridge without even a nick.

_ All right then _ .

Luke breathes deeply again and closes his eyes, feeling the subtle throb of his own pulse in his chest, the warm, humid breeze across his skin and the faint shift of his hair and garments in the air currents.  Then he surrenders his sense of self, his awareness expanding as he descends into the Force.  He is in every leaf, every drop of dew, every twitching wing and stretching paw, every drifting spore, and they are in him.

In the Force he sees their bonds, and now the weapon is but a tightly clad mesh of molecules.

One by one he dismantles them.

Even in his trance of concentration Luke knows that Kyp is startled, then screaming -  _ no, wait, what are you doing, no _ \- as the ship begins to disintegrate, the energy of its atomic unraveling barely held back within an invisible containment field.

Not even dust is left behind when he’s finished.

Luke sways a little when he comes back to himself, lightheaded and breathing heavily; his tunic is now clinging to him with sweat.  But he keeps his knees locked and his gaze steady as he opens his eyes to see Kyp looking back at him in shock and rage, and not a little terror.

“H-How did you do that?” he stammers.

Somehow Luke finds it in himself to give a faint shrug of nonchalance.  “It’s still just crude matter.”

He is thirty standard years and while Han will always call him  _ Kid _ , even Chewbacca still calls him  _ cub _ .  In this moment, though, he feels as old as the ancient stone beneath his feet, power too vast and incomprehensible aching in his fingers and behind his eyes, waiting to be released again.

Kyp wavers, taking a step back in intimidation, and it pulls at Luke’s heart to see the young man looking at him with the kind of fear that this power summons, that the situation has escalated to the point where such a demonstration is necessary.  His empathy for Yoda grows with each passing year.

He holds out his hand again.  “We can stop this now.  Come with me, and we’ll talk.”

Unfortunately reason and a particularly pointed warning isn’t going to work.  Kyp shakes his head.  “I don’t have to give up.  I’m not alone.  I have someone just as powerful as you, even  _ more _ powerful than you.”

An exhausted dread tightens Luke’s stomach, not for himself but for the boy in front of him.  Keeping his tone light, he replies, “Not that I prefer to keep an inflated opinion of myself, but I still doubt that.”

“Well, he’s my teacher now.”

In the Force an abyss opens behind him, and Luke slowly turns to watch a tall and broad silhouette materialize out of the air, a hooded figure whose face appears to be carved from solid basalt.  The wraith grows to tower over him, darkness billowing out around it.  This is the spectre that impersonated Anakin Skywalker, that lured and destroyed Gantoris.  And now has Kyp fully in its thrall.

Luke blinks up at the shadow, thoroughly unimpressed.  Always such theatrics.

Regarding Kyp again, he says, “You don’t have to listen to it.  You’re a free man now, Kyp.  This thing, this Dark Man - all it wants is to exploit you.  Don’t let despair turn you back to slavery.”

_ That _ makes the boy flinch.  Pressing on, Luke continues urgently, “No, Kyp, you’re not alone.  You have me, and everyone else here.  Just come with me, and we’ll all face the Dark Man together.  I won’t let you be harmed.”

For a split second a childlike fear flashes in Kyp’s eyes, a fleeting acceptance of Luke’s offer, but he sees the shadow behind Luke and the last trace of humanity disappears from his features.  Face twisting grotesquely, he screams and raises his hands, and blue-white bolts shoot forth.

Luke doesn’t bother to reach for his lightsaber; his own hands stretch out to catch the lightning, the Force flowing through his arms and into his palms to shield himself from the assault.  He aims to deflect them aside and downward into the flagstones where they can dissipate, but some branch out behind him and then reflect back -

\- toward Kyp.

Luke’s breath seizes as he realizes with agonizing clarity what the Dark Man is doing.  At first he has hope, for he’s survived Force lightning on multiple occasions.  He needs to defend Kyp rather than himself.  But in that instant Kyp is wreathed with deadly light, and in abject horror Luke watches his flesh incinerated down to the bone.

The cry escapes his throat as he staggers forward and falls to his knees, catching the boy’s smoldering remains in his arms.  He doesn’t feel the pain on his own skin as the heat sears him.  Somewhere behind him a voice like molten lava blasting from the earth laughs in spiteful victory, and then the abyss is closed again.

They arrive a few minutes later, footsteps clattering across the temple roof until they all stumble to a stop, no doubt by the sight of what’s left of Kyp cradled in Luke’s grasp.  Keiran -  _ Corran _ \- swears loudly and beckons everyone to help him lift the still-smoking body; sleeves are tugged and robes wound over hands to let them safely handle the charred remains and set Kyp down a few meters away.  Tionne shrouds the body with her cloak before crouching in front of him and gently taking him by the shoulders.  “Luke, you’re hurt,” she says in concern.

“I know,” he whispers numbly.

“We need to get you to the infirmary.”

He doesn’t move.  He can’t.  He’s rooted to this spot with the ashes spilled across his lap.  He’s kneeling before Gantoris’ room.  Before the burning homestead.

Someone else lifts his left arm and drapes it over their shoulders, pulls him up from the stones and takes his weight against them.  “I’ve got you, Luke,” Kam murmurs in his ear.

Standing aside from the terrible scene is Streen, pale eyes transfixed not upon the corpse but Luke.  As Kam steps forward, compelling Luke to walk, Streen utters, “The Dark Man.  He did this.  But did he murder Kyp himself?  Or did he speak to you too?”

Everyone comes to an audible halt, leaving only the distant plaintive calls of birds stirring in the dawn.  Kam stops, and Luke can feel the indignation radiating from him.

“This man here,” he rumbles, “is the only reason I’m still alive and free of the Dark Side.  You think he’s capable of this?”

Luke lets his head hang and keeps his gaze down, too spent to say anything in his own defense.  So this is the shadow’s next tactic - sowing doubt and dissent.  Despair.  However irrational the accusation, the words are spoken and a seed of suspicion is planted.  His integrity is now called into question.  And he was alone up here with Kyp with no other witnesses.

Perhaps they will even begin to think there is no Dark Man here but himself.

Streen only stares back, unable to give an answer.  Shaking his head angrily, Kam passes him, holding Luke to his side.

Luke closes his eyes, and all he can see is darkness.


End file.
